


Watch Me (I can't look away)

by IncandescentAntelope



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Play, Canon Compliant, Canon Universe, Character's Name Spelled as Viktor, Chubby Katsuki Yuuri, Fluff, Happy Ending, Katsuki Yuuri's Victor Nikiforov Posters, Light Angst, M/M, Masturbation, Mutual Pining, Porn With Plot, Pre-Relationship, Sex Toys, Swearing, Yuuri has a very active imagination
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-19
Updated: 2018-12-19
Packaged: 2019-09-22 22:46:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,851
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17068607
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IncandescentAntelope/pseuds/IncandescentAntelope
Summary: It wasn’t bad enough that he failed in Sochi, now Yuuri has to ignore a video of himself skating Viktor’s program too. One thing usually distracts him. Today... it's less than effective.





	Watch Me (I can't look away)

“V-Viiktoorrr…” Yuuri panted in the thick silence of that night, a sheen of sweat beading at his forehead and rolling down his back. The only sounds were hushed breath, the slick glide of flesh on flesh and the wet noises of fingers slowly fucking into him. “ _Haahhh, my god_ …” Yuuri squeaked as his face fell into the pillow, muffling his words and his moans, utterly losing himself in the touch.

“ _Good_?” _He_ whispered, the low sound of _his_ voice in Yuuri's ear sending jolts of electricity down the length of his spine and pooling hotly behind his navel. Just the rough gravel of _his_ voice was enough to make him scream, to send his mind spinning. Yuuri could barely manage a nod through his arousal, forcing out a whining moan that might have vaguely resembled a ‘yes’ at one point. He pressed his hips up and back, inviting those long fingers deeper.

“ _Good_.” _he_ said again as fingers dove deeper, searching for that spot, that spot that would drive Yuuri over the edge. The hand around his cock slowed to a gentle, easy sliding rhythm, despite the pitiful whine that fell from Yuuri's lips. " _Yuuri_ …” _he_ whispered chidingly and everything stilled; Yuuri fell instantly silent as though he was a child and had been reprimanded by a school teacher. He squirmed under the tender reproach, and he felt his hips rocking against those stilled hands.

“S-sorry, it just f-felt so good, I-” Yuuri's apology was cut short by long fingers brushing against that spot, tearing a muffled scream from the Japanese man as he thrust his face into the pillow again. He heard a low chuckle ring out before the relentless assault began, bullying into his prostate and reducing him to a drooling, moaning mess wrapped around _his_ fingers.

“ _That’s it, moan for me, Yuuri_ ," _he_ murmured into his ear, the thickness of _his_ accent rolled over his name in a way that buzzed under his skin. His thighs began to quake as the stroking picked up, both around him and inside him. “ _Tell me how it feels_.” came the soft directive.

“S-so good, your ffffingers…” Yuuri moaned, throwing his hips back against the intrusion, forcing them deeper. When no reproach came, he continued in earnest, fucking himself on the digits as he chased his orgasm. “L-love when you touch me li-like this.” Both the hands taking him apart stopped moving completely, allowing Yuuri to take control the movement. A small, pleased noise reached his ears as Yuuri quickly found his pace, fast and sloppy as he thrust into the tight furl of his fist and onto the bundle of fingers teasing his prostate with every stroke. The bed creaked and groaned with the activity, the thought of being heard or caught was long past embarrassing. Yuuri was too gone, too lost in touch and in the sounds. “Close, 'm so cl-close- _V-Viiiiktor…_ ”

Another throaty chuckle filled the humid air of the room and the hand around Yuuri’s cock flicked at the wrist, slick flesh sliding over the sensitive head in the best way. Every muscle in his body coiled tight, relenting with a broken cry as he came; radio static filled his ears as he collapsed to the bed. The tension pooling in his lower back released, his cock twitching in his hand as he stroked through his orgasm. Garbled words fell from Yuuri's lips nonsensically, punctuated by squeaking moans and whimpered Japanese; all of his noises poured into the softness of his pillow as the waves of his high petered off.

Yuuri’s chest heaved, breaths coming ragged and tired. He lifted his eyes and met those sparkling ceruleans, unchanging and unblinking on the wall. The black meshy costume stretched perfectly over his then still-narrow shoulders, long silver hair pulled back into a flowing tail behind him as he soared through a program Yuuri knew by heart. Had known by heart for years.

“ _Pathetic._ ” He chastised himself, reaching for a tissue with a hand coated in his own spend, quickly wiping away the evidence from his skin. “ _Utterly humiliated on the same ice as Viktor… and that’s how he remembered me. As a fan._ ” The camera-ready facade had greeted him, a cool smile and his smooth-but-rough accent. The memory of it haunted him.

" _Commemorative photo_?" he had asked, as if he didn't know. Or maybe he did and simply cared that little of his competition. But still Yuuri heard his voice, swearing he had heard his own name in that voice in the crowd that night. And now Yuuko's girls had posted the goddamn video of him, skating Viktor's program. He couldn’t bear to watch it. After all the weight gain, he probably looked like piglet on the ice. What a paltry comparison to a deity. It may as well have been sacrilege. 

The humiliations kept piling up one after another. And yet, here was Katsuki Yuuri, utterly eviscerated by his own shortcomings and disgraced on the international stage… getting off the only way he knew how. To the thought of his idol, to the sound of his name spoken by such soft lips, the roughness of his accent rolling over it. Maybe it had been conditioning. Viktor had been the first person to spark Yuuri’s… _interest_. He was always the one featuring in dreams, in fantasies, in sordid thoughts that he would rather not remember.

Yuuri shuddered as the memory sparked his body back to life. He groaned and cursed his lack of control over his own dick as it began to harden and twitch again. A sigh fell from his lips as he flopped onto his back and pumped another dollop of lotion into his hand and wrapped it around his flesh again, gently tugging at the soft folds of foreskin.

His mind wandered, as always, to the pair of blue-green eyes boring holes into his bare chest from across the room. The cool smile, the sparkling gaze of Viktor Nikiforov had burned itself into the fabric of Yuuri’s mind and it gave him no reprieve.

His skin began to ache with the friction before even a hint of an edge had reared its head. His hand wasn’t going to be enough. With a frustrated huff, Yuuri pushed himself out of bed and wandered to his closet, pulling out the box he had hidden under old skates and a messy pile of clothing. Even in the dark he knew what he was searching for, the touch of black silicone.

He resettled on his knees on the bed, slicking up the toy and pressing it against his hole with a swallowed moan. The toy slid into him with ease after he had stretched himself open earlier, the artificial veins rubbed against his walls and filled him perfectly, tears pricked at the corners of his eyes as the flared base kissed the skin between his cheeks. He bit down on his lower lip to keep the noises in, the desperate, needy whines that wanted so much to tear from his throat as the silicone slid into and past his prostate. The thickness of the toy held him open in that perfect way, the sensitive flesh of his hole felt raw with the slide of rubber against the bullied flesh, but he didn’t care. His arousal was an angry thing with claws, searing and hot in his stomach. His muscles clenched erratically around the toy and his arm began to shake with the effort of fucking himself.

He met eyes with Beijing 2008 Viktor as he looked over his shoulder, and he heard his name falling from his lips again, the sound of it coiling thick in his gut. His cock leaked at the imagined sound.

“Are you watching, Viktor?” Yuuri whispered, tears of frustration rolling down his nose as he pistoned the toy into himself, angry that he wished it was the Russian man inside him, that he couldn’t seem to satisfy himself without the thought of Viktor's hands, Viktor's voice, Viktor's everything. “Don’t look away, Viktor. Watch. W-watch what you do to me.” He cried through a tight throat, teetering on the edge of another orgasm.

“ _Yuuri_ …” Viktor whispered in the tight space of the airplane lavatory, his hand wrapped around his cock as he restarted the video again. There was no music, just the soft sound of his breath when he came close enough to the camera, and the swishing of the air around him as he moved, the scrape and clack of his blades against the ice and he echo of it all across the massive, empty room. The video didn’t need music. Yuuri’s body made all the music Viktor needed to hear. Those gentle sounds filled his head, his earbuds firmly in place as he rocked his hips into his fist.

“ _Watch me, please…_ ” The subtitles scrolled by as Yuuri's light voice carried over the ice to the camera, and Viktor couldn’t tear his eyes away. Yuuri moved through the program as though it had been choreographed for him instead of Viktor; his body brought the music to life in a way that Viktor never could. The way Yuuri bent into the spins and launched into the jumps had captured him entirely. All of it reminded him of that night at the banquet, dancing with him and losing himself in the moment with him. He had never felt freer, lighter than that night, whirling around the floor with the Japanese man. He could never forget the passion blazing in amber eyes, and he never wanted to. The Russian’s breath came faster, his heart raced as he bit down on his lower lip.

“Sh-shit, Yuuuu _uuuri_ …” Viktor murmured into his sweatshirt as his every nerve was set alight, the pressure that had been mounting in his stomach finally spilled over his hand with a choked moan of his name. He coughed against his raw, dry throat as he came down from the high, quickly falling back to Earth. He tucked himself away and laughed quietly at the wrecked man who met his gaze in the mirror. He brushed his fringe back into submission and adjusted the cowl of his hoodie to hide the flush on his throat.

He settled back into his seat, thanking the gods that the rest of the first class seemed to be asleep. And as well they should be, on a thirteen-hour red eye to Japan. He dug his phone out of his pocket again, scrolling through the photos he had taken that night. He could still feel the heat of his arms wrapped around him, the drunken flush of his cheeks as he looked up at him with wide, bleary mahogany eyes. “ _Be my coach, Viktor!_ ” Yuuri had said, and then brushed him off like it was nothing. He hadn't heard from Yuuri since then. Maybe he didn't remember. But it didn't matter. Because he posted that video. Because Yuuri had set his heart on fire and there was no going back.

“See you soon, Yuuri.” He whispered in the warm darkness, a smile curling at his lips. “I’m on my way.”

**Author's Note:**

> Beta'd by [ Lauriana25](https://archiveofourown.com/users/Lauriana25)
> 
> Hope you all enjoyed! I haven't posted a little smutty drabble in a while and I kind of just whipped this one out. (I know it's not my best, but hey, I've got a lot of other fun coming down the chute)
> 
> Say hi in the comments, drop a kudos if you liked, and if you liked this, please check out my other work. 
> 
> ❤️ IA ❤️  
> [Tumblr](https://incandescentantelope.tumblr.com) | [ Twitter](https://twitter.com/IAtheAuthor)


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